


Baby, Take Your Meds

by CourtedByDeath



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 06:11:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourtedByDeath/pseuds/CourtedByDeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Moriarty's human side shows through all the layers of disguise and walls he hides under especially when he's sick then he's as human as a cranky child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, Take Your Meds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MD_Sora02](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MD_Sora02/gifts).



> This was written for two people one I've tagged the other doesn't have an account but they're the best and they both know how to put up with me when I'm sick so this is for MD & Sin.

“Boss…”

  
The figure huddled and hiding under the comforter didn’t respond - at least not verbally but he did shift under the mass fabric and fiber fill. The sniper rolled his eyes, tilting his head to the side watching the wiggling mass. He was less than amused to find that the most dangerous man was also the biggest child on the god damned planet.

  
Moran raked a hand through messy hair and sat down on the edge of the bed, placing the mixed medication on the bedside nightstand. He could hear the light dry cough from the smaller man even as he stifled it; attempting to smother it with his hand, the bedding, or perhaps a pillow. He tugged the blanket aside and his lips brushed against a warm sweat dampened temple. “Stop fighting me, Jim. You know you won’t get well if you don’t take it.”

  
Jim breathed and there was a slight wheeze and rattling to the action, never mind the slight whistling from his nose. He gave his head a shake then wished like hell he hadn’t because the rapid movement seemed to make the room spin and god help him when did Sebastian get a double? He closed his eyes and whimpers softly. “Don’t want it.” He managed with a huff and slight pout. “Seb, don’t make me.”

  
He looked absolutely nothing like his usual self. Gone was the criminal mastermind that had Sherlock Holmes dancing like a puppet on a string. Instead there was Jim Moriarty a haggard, vulnerable pile that only vaguely resembled the man it was supposed to be. Stripped away was the usual smile, the wild exuberance, the perfectly groomed hair and tailored Westwood that made him seem so much more than a man. This was a human - just like all the others. Remarkable, wildly clever and absolutely in-fucking-sane but still human James Moriarty.

Sebastian sat at the foot of the bed untying his scuffed work-boots. “Well I’ll make a deal with you. You take these meds and once you’re better I’ll put on that suit  you got me.” He paused feeling the bed shift under Jim’s weight and smirked. That was his kitten always raising for the toy dangled before him. “Who knows, if you get better faster there might be more of a reward in it for you.” 

His comment was rewarded with the sound of the glass on the bedside table being moved then picked up and Jim’s soft mutterings. He didn’t even  have to turn to look to see the criminal’s face scrunched up, eyes screwed tightly shut followed by the tongue sticking out of his mouth in a classic ‘blech’ expression. Jim chased it all down with the last of the juice before letting himself flop back into the bed with a somewhat dramatic groan. “Fine now shut up and come to bed. It’s cold and you’re warm.” Not I’m cold, not I need you to hold me - just it’s cold and you have use but one was just as good as the other.

The sniper bit back a laugh and set his shoes aside, worked his belt and shirt off then crawled into the cocoon of blankets. Sebastian’s hands moved and sought out the fevered skin of the curled up Irishman, pulling him tightly against his bare chest. “There that wasn’t so bad.”

“You didn’t taste it. Tasted like I swallowed tar and my tongue is feeling funny kind of numb.” Jim mumbled shifting to settle his head on that warm bare shoulder. Never one to admit it but Sebastian was the best pillow he’d ever found. His speech was slowing, breathing evening out; the strange taste had to be a sedative. “Going to hold you to that deal, Tiger. I’ll get you in that nice black suit and take you out.”

Rolling those blue eyes at his boss’s complaints, he ran his hands along Jim’s back tracing and drawing soothing circles along his spine from shoulder to hip. “I’ll take your word for that.” He let out a sigh as Jim settled, nuzzling and clinging - as much as he hated dealing with a sick mastermind, he liked little moments like this. “Yeah, I know. Now it’s time for sleep you’ll feel more like burning all of London down after you wake up.”


End file.
